


Affection?

by disappat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Tales of the Dream SMP
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Broken marriage, Crack Treated Seriously, Divorce, F/M, Helga deserves so much better, Helga's not used to affection, Miles is there to save the day, Other than those she can swallow, Suggestive Themes, Tales From The Dream SMP, With helga and jimmy ofc, fuck men, idk - Freeform, no beta we die like dreamnappers in january 3rd, or was it of, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28547859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappat/pseuds/disappat
Summary: “You can sleep at home with me, tonight.”“Alright,” He decides to bite, “Miss Helga, would you like to rest in my arms tonight?”What in the would you rather situation did Helga get herself into?
Relationships: Helga/Jimmy, Helga/Miles Memeington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Affection?

**Author's Note:**

> i m sorry

Night fell a little later than Helga hoped for. See, pointing fingers and murdering townsfolk is fun and all but it’s nothing compared to getting some quality hea-

“Helga!” Her husband called, urgency and constriction in his tone. She turns her head, eyes wide. What did she do now?

“You can sleep at home with me, tonight.” She stares, legs weakening at the sudden softness in his tone. The warm, comforting tone he used to swoon her off her feet as a maiden. It was almost as if he was still the man he married.

Though she knew this was far from reality. For she is very much knowledgeable of the much less noble affairs her husband has in the night. Those not involving sliding between a woman’s thighs, or even bending over for a man.

Rather, her husband indulged himself in the arms of the slaughter.

Helga’s breathing picks up pace, every moment she’s shared with her husband flashing by. As if to remind her of the life they had.

The life they could still have.

The life he promised.

A simple phrase, an invite that should’ve been an unspoken vow between lovers. ‘You can sleep with me, tonight.’ Words he spoke with such care it almost felt genuine. Reminded her of the smell of freshly cut grass and dancing flame as they sat around the campfire. Their eyes set on one another as if they were the only people in the world, at least the only that mattered.

She longs, she hopes, to come back to such a time. When Jimmy was still the courageous, well-spoken man she trusted with her life. The one to swore he’d bring justice and prosperity to their humble village.

Where had that man gone? She wonders, looking up startled. Helga met fiery eyes, though completely different from when they were younger and innocent. Not to mention, naive.

They used to be buzzing with life, such genuine enticement that could liven an entire state. His words were sweet and admirable, though at the end of the day only gave off false hope. Acting as white lies to a village that knew nothing of the monster he would become.

Helga would look up, and expect to meet eyes with the man he’d enjoy late nights near the fire with. The man who’d invite him to the well, flattering her with cheesy comments about how she was the living proof that wishes do come true.

But that man and his flowery words and passages coming out his ass were gone. In his place was nothing but a murderer, eyes tinted dark and enraged. A constant state of regret, not by the blood left by his hands. But the mistake of getting caught bloody-handed.

The fire that once ignited life to the entire village would be the very same that could burn it into ashes. She feared nothing more but what more damage could such a cowardly man impasse.

“No more fooling around. No more shrimps. Just us together in the b-”

“No.” Legs planted to the ground, a stance stronger than she’d ever done before. Helga retorts, puffing up her chest as if to gather the remaining courage she had. She knew of her weakwilldedness, she knew of how she crumbles at the sight of her husband’s pain.

But everytime she tries to humanize the man, she’s instead reminded of every sacrifice that came after his faked death. The town became warry, went mad as they went on a witch hunt. An attempt to purge the village of wrongens. Though ending up with more losses than they’d hope for.

Innocent lives, cutting down one by one. While she must stay, watching in the sidelines knowing that she married the monster that started it all.

Now was not the time to feel guilt. Now was the time to feel an ounce of courtesy for the fallen.

She mustn't make this about him and her and their broken marriage, there were far more lives caught in the crossfire. Lives that mattered more than a pitiful excuse of a promise of for better and for worse.

“No?” Jimmy cackles, a low one that sent shivers down her spine. Unfortunately, not from arousal. He could never get it up anyways. Helga stares him down, a simple nod answering him.

“No.” He laughs harder this time almost waking up the entire town. She ushers to shut him up, reminding him of the time. “Isn’t this interesting. My own wife, turning against me. Just like the entire village that I ran-”

“That you murdered!” She raises her voice, a shaky tone recognizable from someone who wasn’t used to serious heated arguments. Those she always wished to avoid, ending up in another man’s bed to evade the topic.

“I’ve only murdered one man, Helga-”

“One too many!”

“Oh for heaven’s sake could you shut up! It was a simple mista-”

“My, I’m sorry. Had the knife fallen defective and ended up right in our neighbor’s chest?”

“WOULD YOU LET ME SPEAK.” Her shoulders fall, though wanting to say more she stops. There he is, there’s the man behind the slaughter. The man who threw the knife blindfolded. 

Jimmy sighs, “I murdered one man. The rest of it was all on you and the town. You’ve all come together to burn them in lava, did you not?” he ends with a mean eyebrow raise and a mocking lean to her face. Oh how Helga remembered these, a night with her husband would never be completed without the blatant guilt tripping.

“You made them sent into fraze, Jimmy. You knew of how these poor townsfolk knew nothing of actual crimes beyond our walls. You did this.” Her tone was more confident this time around, certain of her words. Certain of the unforgiven faults of the man, and the chaos to which he was the one to blame. 

“Oh I didn’t. You did, Helga. You and your dunderheads really did good in helping calming the town down, didn’t it? Helped out in letting the townsfolk spare you, letting innocents take your place in the morning-” His crude words, demeaning and blatant salt to the wounds left open were cut short by a hand swinging by his face. One that left a prominent sting on his cheek, while the owner of the hand remains unfazed.

“Did that make you feel better, honey? Did that bring back the lives of those you neglected?” Jimmy continues to provoke her. A pleased grin creeping onto his face as he notices the certain decrease in enthusiasm within the woman. There she stood, a faint expression still present on her face, though stance slowly losing form as her shoulders fell more and more.

Upon confirming the effect he had on her, surely lowering her guard down, he decided it was the time to strike. He sets out a foot, hands on his back as he starts walking circles around her. Daunting glances that made the woman feel tiny under his gaze. “See, Helga, you could go with other men all you want. I’d even walk you to their houses!” Jimmy starts,

“But I’m the only man on this Earth that would forgive you, time and time again.” He grins, a wicked smile of satisfaction as he gains Helga’s attention.

“I’m your husband, Helga. Bound to my vows till the end of time.” He continues to circle around her, taunting her with every step.

“ I accepted you to be my wife,” Lies. He has accepted her to be his mistress, power was his lover. 

“To have and to hold from this day forward,” Calloused hands used to feel so soft against her skin. Now, every touch of his hands, bloodied with every sin he’s committed, stung venomously. Helga turns on her heel, not wanting to hear another word. Desperately trying to escape the vows they couldn’t live up to, anchoring her down at every step.

“For better, for worse,” Jimmy continues, raising his voice as she slowly makes a distance. Not turning back, looking straight forward to a house familiar to them both.

“For richer, for poorer!” In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish!” He was no screaming, at the top of his lungs, desperately to catch her attention.

“You promised, Helga. You promised that till death us do part-”

“Death has done us part.” She matches the volume of his voice, finally shutting him up without a turn of her head. Unable, no, simply despising the idea of looking at the cowardly man using their own vows against her.

“Or did you not remember the morning you’ve died, and never came back to our bed.” She ends the conversation there. Though still hearing the aggressive yells from Jimmy as she runs to the house of a man especially caught in the crossfire of their marriage.

“Miles! Oh Miles!” She whimpers exaggeratingly. Stomping her foot upon hearing no reaction from the owner of the house.

“Miles! I know you’re home, and you have no lover to be busy with. Open the godda-” An abrupt opening of the wooden door cuts her yammering short. Instead, she’s greeted with a disheveled man with thick eye bags daunting over her. Though only an inch taller, his judging demeanor as he leaned against the door frame made Helga feel small.

“And where’s yours?” He asks, a raspy voice slapping the daydreaming woman back into reality.

“W-where’s my what?” She stammers, earning an unimpressed roll of eyes from the other. Clearly tired, not wanting to play her silly games in the middle of the night.

“Your lover? You dare mock me for my unwedded lifestyle yet here you are.” Miles turns his back on the lady, though still leaving his door open. Almost as an indirect invitation into his house. To which, unintentional or not, was gladly accepted by Helga.

“Knocking at my door instead of sleeping with your beloved husband that had you yelling about his death in the middle of the night.” He says, taking a sip of the coffee that had gone cold on his coffee table. Helga raises a brow at his peculiar actions and intricate details.

“Were you…” She starts, gaining the attention of the man. “Were you eavesdropping, Miles?” The frantic expression left on his face upon almost choking on his coffee practically confirms her suspicions.

“No?! What would make you think that I, Miles Memeington, would do such an improper action?” He runs off his mouth, making excuses one after another while the lady simply slaughs at her foolishness.

“Oh yeah? Is that why you heard of my curses and wishing death upon my husband? Was that part especially intriguing for you, Mr. Memeington?” She walks over, leaning forward to have her face directly in front of the sitting man.

“Please,” He stands up, trying to remain his composure upon being put in such a flustering situation. After he’s certain he wouldn’t commit any more slip ups and embarrassing acts, he looks down. Meeting the previously brave and enticing eyes now widened, taken aback upon seeing the darker expression from Miles.

“‘Miles’ would suffice.” He states, the stern tone in his voice weakening Helga. Though not the same as how she felt every time her ex-husband would call for her name. It felt new, addicting almost.

“Was there a reason for this visit, Helga? Or was this one of your silly games, going on about dunderhead, was it?” Miles moves on, walking past the lady to reach for his coffee once again. Might as well empty the mug, it seems he’s not getting much sleep today.

“Dunderhead?” She giggles, not expecting to hear such a word coming from such a prestigious man such as himself. Her laughter seemed to have had an effect on the man, suddenly feeling quite ashamed of even trying to speak her language.

“Well, yes. Is that not what you call your nightly services?” Miles says, trying to disregard the burst of laughter from Helga. A faint redness appearing on his cheeks as she continued to throw a fit from his flustered state.

Though if he were to be honest, he’d prefer her carefree (though rather mocking) fits of giggles than her straining voice and heavy breathing heard by the entire town. He’d rather see her in such a state, like the Helga he knew.

“Are you done now? It wasn’t even that funny.” Sure he wished for her happiness, but he also wished to get some shut eye at some point tonight. And Helga currently laying, hand in her stomach, rolling around in his bed isn’t really helping on this wish of his.

“Oh, it was. It really was.” She says between rolls, finally toning it down after a few moments. Helga stares at the ceiling, stomach at hand, trying to catch her breath from what felt like a work out. “My gods, that was priceless!” She exclaims, satisfied.

“I didn’t know a man of your honor would be so…” She sits up, legs crossed with her shoulder perked up in a seductive manner. “Vulgar.” Her tone lowers, losing all humor as she bites her lip. Miles was almost fooled with her actions, well his little buddy was definitely intrigued, before she goes back into fits of laughter from his reaction.

“The look on your face- My goodness Memeingt-”

“Miles.” He corrects, earning but an eye roll.

“Miles.” She says, mocking tone never leaving her tongue. “I must say, you’re quite stern on me calling you by your first name. Did you finally admit to our close relations?” She inquires, though leaving with a suggestive click of her tongue upon noticing the sudden stiff posture from Miles.

“I simply wished to be called by my first name under my roof.” Miles answered, sounding like an auto-generated twitter bot. Somehow stiffening more from the touch of a heel on his lower abdomen.

“Alright then, Miles. Are you saying we aren’t friends? Do you detest me, Miles? Would you wish me to leave, sleep in my husband’s bed?” A challenge in her voice, provoking the fabric of his pants. He gulps,

“No, I don’t detest you. Though I do wish you could leave my bed, sleep on the couch for me to finally get some rest.” He explains, exhaling as even he could feel the overwhelming tension from Helga’s burning gaze.

“Oh, this bed?” She rolls over, flailing her arms around to torment the tired man. Who, in retaliation, simply rolled his eyes and dragged the overly confident woman into a warm hug while slamming himself on the bed.

“Yes, this bed. My bed. Which I’d like to use for the night.” His words felt more intimate to the woman who felt his breath on the back of her ear. Hair raising at the sensation of an unfamiliar warmth creeping on his neck, one she identified as a grown man snuggling on her shoulder.

“With that?” She motions to his pants. “Oh come on, dear Mi-” He groans, swinging a leg over her as if using the lady as his pillow. An attempt to shut her up, which did work momentarily before she started kicking and wailing. Not exactly in discomfort, simply from the foreignity of the actions.

“God! What is your problem?!” He finally yells out, sitting up though only earning but a pout from the troublesome lady.

“What are- what are you-” She gulps. “What are you doing?” Helga could feel her face heating up under the confused gaze from Miles who was uncertain what to make of her reaction.

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ I’m giving you a hug!” He goes back to laying down, practically strangling her as he envelopes Helga in his arms.

“I didn't!” She struggles to talk, “I didn’t consent to this!” She wails, Miles groaned already hearing the questionable noise complaints from his neighbors.

“You were trying to give me head a second ago, now you’re struggling against my hug?”

“Consent is important!” Alright, well, he can’t really go against that. Miles rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time as he sat up, looking down at the woman breathing heavily. Instead of putting up a fight, he decides it was not the time for games. Rather, it was the time for sleep, catching zzz, making use of his bed. Thus, he lays back down, turning his back on the now bewildered Helga.

After a prolonged moment of silence, Miles thought he was finally free from her yapping. That is, until he felt increasingly annoying pokes from behind. Forcing him to turn back to the bipolar woman.

“What now?!” He expects to meet the eyes of the feisty lady who was so close to kicking his balls moments before, instead he was greeted with doe eyes staring back at him. Miles almost melted before remembering who exactly he’s dealing with.

“Are you- Are you not gonna do the thing?” He raises his brow at her response, hand now resting on his face.

“What ‘thing’?” Helga groans, kicking and stomping once again like a child.

“The thing! The- the-” She wraps her arms around herself, “And then- and then the-” then she motions to her neck. A poor attempt of recreating their cuddle session earlier. Though enough for Miles to make an amused expression, and a laugh he is so desperately trying to keep in.

“You mean the hug?” He manages to blurt out while keeping his remaining composure in check. Though his attempts ended up being useless from seeing the shy nod from the lady who was offering to give him head earlier.

“Stop mocking me, this instant! Is it so absurd for a woman like me to request such a thing from a man such as yourself?!” Miles could practically see the smoke emitting from her ears as she tried to defend herself. Though her vivid red face isn’t really helping her case.

“Oh but it is, especially from someone who was so stubborn with such a simple act of affection.” Ah, a slip up.

“Affection?” Helga immediately hopped on Miles’ words, a teasing eyebrow raised prominent on her face. As if her shyness suddenly drained from her entire body in a matter of seconds.

“Well, yes. Typically lovers would comfort one another with a warm embrace in bed, an attempt of ignoring the chilling wind of the night.” Now Miles was the one scrambling to find words that wouldn’t automatically point towards his attraction.

“‘Typically’? Would you say our scenario isn’t just normal romance?” She warms towards him, feeling like her usual teasing self that was lost for a second from a foreign action she had encountered abruptly.

“I’d say we’re but friends, though recent violent reactions have said otherwise.” It’s too late for some quality rest, might as well have fun with the little lady’s games. Hell, maybe win this childish game of hers, perhaps rewarded by the privilege of letting her rest by the end of it.

“Violent reactions? Are you referring to your stiff ding-a-ling over there?” Miles let out a faint laugh at her vulgar vocabulary. Well, more childish than vulgar, if anything.

“Stiff ding-a-ling? I was pertaining to how you kicked and fret at a simple embrace, ms. Helga.” He says mid-giggles, earning but an elbow to the chest from the lady who didn’t seem at all amused by his teasing.

“Why, that was just because I hadn’t consented into such an act! Had I been told beforehand, I wouldn’t have acted in such an aggressive way.” She continues to pile excuse after excuse to which Miles rolled his eyes to, a shake of his head though still smiling at her silliness.

“Alright,” He decides to bite, “Miss Helga, would you like to rest in my arms tonight?” 

Helga’s smile stretched from ear to ear, one so genuine Miles hoped to keep it dazzling just like that for the rest of his life. To keep her in this state of bliss, away from the killings and chaos of this wretched town. Safe within his arms.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She goes in first, taking the courtesy of resting on his chest, arms enveloping his waist. Miles stutters for a second, a bit taken aback from feeling the sudden rush of warmth and belonging.

He’s had hugs before, this wasn’t a foreign ordeal. Yet, somehow, her embrace introduced him to a rush of brand new emotions. So overwhelming to the point of astonishment. He’s brought back to reality from a simple nudge from Helga.

“Are you not- Are you not gonna do the thing?” She awaits, expectedly. Stil leaning against his chest, hearing every beat of his pounding heart. Exposing his nervous state despite appearing to be such a cold stone man. Under her touch, he felt helpless. Unnerved, unprepared.

Every nudge closer sent him into frenzy, butterflies felt like dragons in his stomach. He felt like a child squirming over simple skinship from his He sighs, pulling himself together to return the hug. Arms over the lady, pulling her closer as if she wasn’t close enough.

“Does that suffice?” He asks, looking down upon not receiving a reply. He softens, not wanting to ruin the once in a lifetime opportunity of having peace in Helga’s presence. It seems she’s fallen asleep faster than he had imagined. Though he assumes he mustn't be surprised.

A lady like her, who’s had to put up with an entire town hunting her down for sins she didn’t commit, would be more tired than a man whose gotten off easier than anyone in the village. Being the first to have an axe to the head, and the only to survive, Miles had the privilege of running away. Not having to endure the havoc that evoked after his “death.”

While she, who’s had the town she served and protected turned against her. She who endured the trails of misfortune her husband left upon his ‘death.’

Miles sighed, raising his hand to rest on her head. Once again pulling her closer, as if he’ll lose sight of her the moment he loses his grip. Eventually falling asleep, head resting on her head as they found comfort in each other’s warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> im s orry


End file.
